


Going Nowhere

by UnoriginalToast



Category: BNA: Brand New Animal (Anime)
Genre: (I hope!), Canon Compliant, Found Family, Gen, Graphic Descriptions of blood, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Whump, can be read as platonic or romantic, heavy on the comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25273828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnoriginalToast/pseuds/UnoriginalToast
Summary: Shirou is injured and Michiru is worried. It's not the first time and won't be the last, but they will continue to find comfort in the presence of each other.--Now a first-draft hurt/comfort series where I beat up two adorable idiots.
Relationships: Kagemori Michiru & Ogami Shirou
Comments: 7
Kudos: 207
Collections: BNA Comfort





	1. Chapter 1

When the dust settled all Michiru could hear was loud panting. She wasn’t sure how long she knelt there on the ground, hands pressed to her chest, before realizing that the noise was coming from her. It was hard to get her breathing under control, to regain her bearings. Everything was so confusing. Her head hurt. Her arms hurt. Her lungs felt like they would explode.

At some point, she realized her eyes were squeezed so tightly, her eyelids began to ache and she slowly pried them open. All she could see in front of her was a shock of white and so, so much red. The red was so loud. It was everywhere, on the floor, on the walls. She could see it on her own arms and legs. And then there was all the red that covered almost everything except for the tiniest clump of while.

Her eyes burst open and she scrambled forward ignoring the way her body screamed at her to sit down. She landed a hand on one bloody arm, the other on the backside of an unmoving figure who appeared to be floating in a pool of their own blood.

“Shirou!” Michiru cried as the word crawled up her throat and leaped into the gruesome scene. It lingered between them, settling in the air as it echoed through the warehouse. Shirou had morphed back into his human form and gashes plainly littered his entire body. His entire back was shredded to bits and Michiru didn’t even want to think about what his chest looked like. She tried to shake him but felt no movement. Her body went numb save for the stinging in her eyes that she recognized as tears which would soon spill down her puffy brown cheeks. “Shirou, please,” she begged.

“I won’t die,” he had said to her many times before. In fact, it was like a catchphrase. She wondered if he could go an entire day without uttering the sentence. Every time he got hurt, every time he saved her life, she would cry and worry and he would just look annoyed and tell her that he can’t die.

But what if he could? Had there ever been another immortal they could study? If there had been, where were they? How could they be so absolutely sure because it looked like all the blood in Shirou’s body was on the ground now and Michiru didn’t know how any being could just get up and walk away from that.

The tears were flowing steadily when she heard a grunt in between hiccups. The man stirred and muttered, “Michiru,” sounding either tired or annoyed or both. Michiru gasped and squeezed the only part of his wrist that seemed to have no blood on it.

“Shirou?”

“I told you…” he grunted, struggling to pry his eyes open. “I can’t die.”

The Mayor came shortly after. It was a familiar dance. One of her attendants helped Shirou into the back of a luxurious car, one that had Michiru wondering just how much it cost to clean blood off the expensive-looking seats. She climbed in the back and sat in the seat next to him. It felt like there was a canyon between the two as he had scooted up as close to the window as possible to lay his head against the vibrating side of the car. The coat the attendant had covered him in was clutched tightly in his hand and seemed to have absorbed most of the lingering wet blood.

When they arrived at their destination, Michiru and Shirou were separated. Shirou was helped out of the car and taken to the Mayor’s personal quarters while Michiru was examined in an empty meeting room. The secretary, who was definitely not paid enough to deal with injuries like this, was kind and answered Michiru in the same even tone every time she asked when she could see Shirou.

Sometimes after having her wounds bandaged, Michiru found herself left to her own devices. The Mayor had gone out somewhere and no one else in the building seemed to be paying her much attention, so she snuck upstairs to try and find Shirou. She’d been to the Mayor’s quarters before and it didn’t take long before she found the right door.

The first thing she saw when she pushed open the heavy wooden door was Shirou, lying on a long purple couch and wrapped head to toe in bandages. His skin looked even paler than normal and the bandages were bright but Michiru was just glad he wasn’t covered in red any longer. As she approached, she saw that he was asleep, his chest rising and falling evenly as his body healed.

She hated this part. Patience wasn’t her strong suit and waiting was always agonizing, but she wanted to be there when he woke up. If she wasn’t there, after all, how could she be sure he was really alright? No matter how many times he recovered from grave injuries, there was still a part of her that just couldn’t allow herself to believe he was really immortal.

Sometimes she would find a chair and pull it up, but this time she decided she would just sit on the floor with her back against the couch, listening for any irregularities in Shirou’s breathing. Kuro sat perched on the armrest of the couch looking quite worried and paid Michiru no mind, glancing up only when she settled on the floor before returning his gaze to his companion.

Michiru must have dozed off because when she next opened her eyes she could hear the couch shift as its occupant readjusted to a more comfortable position. “Shirou?” Michiru ventured, turning herself around and sitting herself up. Shirou let out a sigh and opened his pale green eyes before groaning.

“This is the worst part,” he said.

“What is?” Michiru asked. “The healing? You can feel the wounds healing quickly, right? They are healing? Right?”

Shirou groaned and placed a hand to his bandaged forehead. “No,” he replied ruefully. “You worrying over me.” Michiru sunk back a bit, unsure if she should be offended. “I’ve told you before, I can’t die.”

“I know…” Michiru trailed off, picking a spot on the carpet to stare at. “It’s just… It’s really hard to watch you get hurt like that. Most people would die and so it’s tough to separate you out from everyone else.”

“Why? Not special enough?” Shirou joked.

“No,” Michiru laughed half-heartedly in an attempt to stay somewhat serious. “It’s because you’re my friend. And watching my friend get hurt is scary. And, well, this whole thing… becoming a Beastman. I’ve lost a lot--and don’t get me wrong I’ve gained so much. But you’re one of the people I’ve gained and I don’t know what I would do if I… If I lost you.”

Shirou’s lopsided smile faded and he regarded the girl more seriously now. She looked like she was about to cry and Shirou would be damned if he had to heal himself up _and_ deal with a crying child. He reached out and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

“Michiru, I--”

“If you say you can’t die again, I’m going to hit you!” Michiru laughed with a watery smile.

Shirou paused, then the corners of his lips turned upwards just ever so slightly as he playfully punched her arm. “I was _going to say_ , if you ever gave me the chance to speak, that… I’m not going anywhere. So don’t worry about something as ridiculous as losing me.”

Michiru smiled back at him and swallowed thickly, willing her tears away. That didn’t quite work all the way, so she had to wipe the excess wetness from her eyes before she reached over and did her best to give Shirou a hug while he was still lying flat on the couch. He didn’t return it, both because of the awkward position and because he rarely returned hugs, but he did his best not to groan when Michiru’s weight pressed down on a still-healing wound.

When the Mayor came back a short while later, Shirou was awake and sitting up on the couch, carding his fingers through Michiru’s hair while the girl lay fast asleep on his lap, a smile lingering on her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please accept my offering as I come barreling into the BNA fandom and share my love of found family with you all!
> 
> I don't know if I want Shirou to be my dad or if I want to call him daddy but I love him and I love beating him up a little too. 
> 
> I tend to see his relationship with Michiru as platonic and have tagged this work as such, but feel free to interpret as you like.
> 
> Also excuse any OOC-ness, canon inconsistencies, and general clunkiness, I wrote this in 20 minutes because I couldn't get it out of my head and needed to make room in my mind for other things! This can also be read as alongside canon or post-canon bc I didn't get too deep into how and when these injuries were sustained ha!
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please check out my other stuff and/or my [Tumblr!](https://unoriginaltoast.tumblr.com/)


	2. Sleeping In

The rain pounded on the window as thunder rolled in the distance, but that wasn’t what kept Michiru awake. Usually, she loved storms. The way lightning lit up the sky amazed her, especially the thin zaps that would snake across the sky, exploding into blues and yellows. Nazuna was the opposite, she remembered, hating the way the thunder would clap suddenly, jarring one from their sleep. Michiru had never understood the hatred of storms until tonight when she found herself pacing her small room restlessly, jumping every time the thunder caught her off guard.

She hadn’t seen Shirou since breakfast that morning, who had asked her politely what her plans were for the day. After rambling about finding a good park to set up a basketball hoop for the neighborhood kids, she returned the question and received barely a shrug in response. When she pressed, all Shirou said was, “I need to take care of something today. I’ll be back late, so don’t wait up.”

It wasn’t really that strange a conversation. In fact, Michiru could swear she’d had that same conversation many times in many different ways. Shirou would vaguely say he had something he needed to do, Michiru would press, Shirou would offer some tiny unimportant detail like “it won’t take long’ or “the mayor asked me to,” and then he’d manage to leave before she could get the truth from him.

However, there were two differences that night. First, Shirou said he’d be back late, but it was nearing three in the morning and he still hadn’t returned. Michiru checked his room a few times to see if he had slipped past her open door, but it was empty save for Kuro who looked quite annoyed she was not his usual companion. 

Second, it was raining, and while that in and of itself wasn’t strange, the idea of Shirou being out there in the rain caused Michiru more worry than normal. Something about the booming thunder followed immediately by streaks of lightning that lit up all of Anima City made her fur stand on end. It was a feeling she couldn’t shake, one that kept her from sleep and turned her stomach into knots.

At some point she must have dozed against the window, exhaustion finally winning out and pulling her under, but she was startled awake by the slamming of a door from somewhere below her and heavy footsteps on the stairs.

Michiru jumped up and ran to her door, but decided to calmly peer around the corner because she was sure Shirou would scold her for still being awake and she just wanted to catch a quick glimpse to settle her nerves. 

Unfortunately, that glance did anything but.

She could tell something was wrong immediately, just by the sound of Shirou climbing the stairs before he even came into view. Usually his steps were quiet and calm. He never made any rush to get upstairs but he certainly didn’t linger. Now, his steps were heavy and long. It sounded like he stomped on each step, stopped for a long moment, and then heaved himself up onto the next stair.

His head came into view first and even in the dim light, Michiru could see how his eyes were squeezed shut in pain and his lips were parted as he panted from the exertion the ascension caused him. It was only when his torso came into view that Michiru could see the blood dripping from his chest, leaking through his fingers and coating his hands in red.

“Shirou!” Michiru cried out and hurried down the hall to meet the man just as he made it to the landing. Peering through half-closed eyelids, he narrowed his gaze at her and mumbled something under his breath, a curse, if Michiru read his lips correctly. When she got next to him, she could tell that he was absolutely soaking wet, his usually voluminous white hair limp against his head.

“What happened?” Michiru asked, placing one hand on his back, trying to assist him to his room. The only answer she received was a pained grunt before Shirou tripped over his own feet and Michiru nearly fell with him but managed to right them both just in time. Figuring he wasn’t about to give her all the details at the moment, Michiru helped guide him down the hall to his room.

The second Kuro saw Shirou, he began to squawk frantically and fly around the room. Michiru had to wave him away as she helped Shirou sit on the edge of his bed. Between Shirou’s heavy eyes threatening to close and Kuro’s erratic flying, Michiru felt very overwhelmed, but managed to run back down the hall and grab some towels and a meager first aid kit from the bathroom. 

When she came back Kuro was perched on the bed frame, pacing from side to side while Shirou looked considerably paler. His bed was relatively narrow and was pushed against the wall, so he was able to lean back while still sitting upright, though Michiru worried he would pass out on her. The small part of his green eyes that she could see appeared dull and unfocused, constantly darting around and looking everywhere but at her.

“Shirou,” Michiru started in a soft whisper as she helped him pull his long wet coat off and ran a towel through his hair. “What happened? Where are you hurt?” She didn’t really expect him to answer due to his semi-consciousness and general stubbornness, but she could deduce that the biggest injury was on the right side of his chest judging by the fact his hand hadn’t moved from that spot.

“Let me see.” Michiru placed her hand on his, trying not to lose it when the sticky feeling of blood touched her palm. She wasn’t sure if Shirou was really relenting or if his grip just wasn’t as strong as she assumed, but she was able to pry his fingers away and help him pull his shirt off so she could examine the wound.

Though it was still weeping blood, it was clearly starting to heal. Something about how angry and red the area around the wound looked made Michiru think that it had once been much worse and likely fatal to a normal person.

“Jeeze, Shirou,” she breathed as she reached for disinfectant and bandages so she could clean and dress the wound. He seemed to completely give in to the situation at that point and leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed.

She was almost finished wrapping the bandages around his chest when the man shifted and peered down at her with half-lidded eyes.

“Got stabbed,” he mumbled out. Had it not been so silent in the room, Michiru would never have heard him, but the sudden noise made her jump. Her eyes shot to meet his and she tilted her head in confusion.

“By who?” 

Shirou just shrugged. That was likely all Michiru would get out of him regarding the events of the night which was frustrating because she had already figured the wound was due to a stabbing of some sort.

“Do you even know medicine?” Shirou asked after he had cleared his throat. It still sounded like sandpaper and probably felt that way too, but Michiru was glad he was awake enough to say something.

“No,” she admitted. “But I’ve seen stuff like this on TV.” That comment elicited a groan and Shirou closed his eyes for a moment. “Do you want me to get Melissa? Or Gem?”

“No.”

“Okay. Well, I’m done anyway.” Michiru folded the last bandage on top of the first layer and examined her handiwork. Could a medical professional have done better? Absolutely. But this would do for now. Besides, the wound would heal just fine. Shirou may not have needed to be bandaged up at all, but she wasn’t about to let him fall into bed soaking wet and bleeding.

Shirou just huffed in response and pulled the towel on his head off. He was considerably dryer, though his hair was still damp and likely would be for a while. Michiru wasn’t sure if it was whatever fight he had been in or his quick healing that caused his exhaustion, but she was sure if she left him there he would fall asleep with his back against the wall.

“Come on, lie down.” Michiru placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him onto the bed fully. To her surprise, he didn’t fight her and his head hit the pillow with a content sigh. Even Kuro seemed to be much more relaxed now that Shirou had been cleaned up and was about to rest. 

Shirou muttered something that Michiru didn’t quite hear. “What?” she questioned, causing a pained expression to cross the man’s face. He clearly didn’t want to say it again.

“Thank you,” he muttered after a moment. Michiru barely caught the words, but when they registered, she smiled and pulled a blanket up over him. 

He was asleep in seconds. Michiru lingered, knowing she could go back to her own room and likely get some small amount of sleep, but she couldn’t help but stay. The color was starting to return to his cheeks and his breaths were even now. If she hadn’t seen the angry wounds for herself, she would have thought him to just be sleeping normally. 

  
In the end, she pulled up his desk chair and grabbed a spare blanket. She decided that she’d stay, at least until his wounds had completely healed and he looked completely healthy.

Hours later, as the sunlight poked through the half-drawn curtains, Shirou found himself coming to. The events of the night were hazy and he hardly remembered even coming back, though he felt the familiar comfort of his own bed beneath him. However, there was something unfamiliar weighing down his hand. 

Slowly, struggling against the stinging light, he cracked his eyes open to see a mop of blue and brown fur. When he had blinked a few times and his vision became more clear, he was able to make out Michiru, half sitting on the chair, half lying on his mattress. Wetness pooled out of her mouth and she snored, but Shirou didn’t have the heart to wake her.

Instead, he shifted ever so quietly, doing everything he could to not disturb the girl. First, he reached over and pulled the blanket that had fallen off her shoulders more firmly around her, and then he settled back down.

For once, he decided, the two of them deserved a day to sleep in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't get these two out of my head!!!! So this is where I'll dump some fluffy oneshots, which will likely all be Hurt/Comfort since apparently that's all I write now.
> 
> So enjoy my self-indulgence and thanks for reading!


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